Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Osroed. Dark Star Hall.
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Osroed.
Dark Star Hall.
The phrase struck like a bolt of lightning, cleaving through the hazy fog of Gavin's memories.
"You..." Gavin gasped, only to be yanked back by his hair, forcing his head up. From this angle, he could see Osroed's cold gray eyes, the pupils a single drop of blood-red, twisted with lust into something grotesquely savage.
"Do you remember the last time I told you my name? Four hundred years ago, in the Far Star System, when the Radiant Legion landed on the planet. You piloted the Phoenix mech and sealed the entire Dark Star Hall into five-dimensional space... What was it you said back then?"
Osroed pressed tight against Gavin from behind. As he spoke, he lowered his head, his icy breath nearly grazing Gavin's ear.
"You said Dark Star Hall would drift forever in the void, its space imprisoned, its time frozen—like wandering in the realm of the dead, never to return to the world of men... And yet here we are now, returned with unimaginable power. Did you ever foresee a day like this?"
Countless sealed fragments surged through Gavin's mind. The smoke and flames of that day replayed before his eyes like chaotic film reels.
"But that wasn't the first time I told you my name." Osroed paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Our first meeting was even further back, at the Elder Council's tribunal. You, the traitor who had fled Dark Star Hall, once again talked your way out of it with clever words, deceiving everyone—then walked right past me with that infuriating look on your face..."
Gavin's pupils dilated massively. He stared fixedly at Osroed's cold gray eyes, his entire body trembling from the excruciating pain exploding deep in his mind.
—Osroed.
—I am Osroed.
Suddenly, every scene began spinning wildly. A massive vortex bloomed in the black void. Time swept him backward through glory and ruin, war and fire, like an invisible giant hand dragging him kicking and screaming to four hundred years ago—
Yes, those snake-like eyes had appeared before.
He had stood at the tribunal, a rising star among Dark Star Hall's new generation, wielding great power at the height of his influence—nearly rivaling Yunes, who represented the established faction.
Perched high on the tribunal, he had looked down upon Gavin Celia, who didn't spare him so much as a glance.
That was Osroed, the Dark Star warrior from four hundred years ago.
—Galactic Calendar Year 3000, Far Star System, Tribunal Arena.
"Do you know who they're judging today?"
"Alliance Marshal Gavin Celia—he used to be a Dark Star warrior!"
Countless stars twinkled in the night sky. The tribunal arena, built from massive black boulders with tiered seating ringing the space like an ancient Roman coliseum, enclosed a circular pit at the bottom. Dark Star warriors stood in stern formation. At the center of the lowest level was a cage-like stone platform, where Gavin Celia stood clad in the white uniform of an Alliance marshal, his hands locked behind him in electromagnetic cuffs.
He gazed straight ahead at the elders' dais, his face betraying no emotion—no panic, no fear.
"They say he was the chief warrior back in the hall, always one step ahead of Yunes. Too bad he defected later with some desert wanderer." Barnett sneered, shooting a glance across the circular seating. "Look at Yunes's face... Not something you see every day."
Osroed glanced over at the words. Sure enough, Yunes in the distance was staring death at Celia, body leaning slightly forward, his eyes burning with an intensity that was arresting.
—But for some reason, it didn't feel entirely like killing intent. There was something oddly feverish about it.
A dark gray figure shifted on the elders' dais, and the whispers from all directions fell silent at once. A few seconds later, a deep voice rumbled, sending faint vibrations through the entire arena:
"—Gavin Celia?"
"Yes."
"Fifty years ago, you defected from Dark Star Hall. Now you return as Alliance marshal. Have you come here to die?"
Murmurs buzzed to life, countless eyes turning to Celia at the bottom. Under all those gazes, the Alliance marshal lifted his head. Countless starlights reflected in his pupils as his voice rang out, cool and steady:
"No. I've come to propose an alliance."
The words rippled outward like a stone in a pond, igniting a storm of chatter from every side.
"Nonsense!" someone shrieked. "He defected once already! Execute him immediately!"
"Can't trust a traitor! Death sentence!"
"What are you talking about? If the Alliance marshal sides with us..."
"Impossible! He's lying!"
...
Osroed narrowed his eyes at Celia, saying nothing.
The Alliance marshal was undoubtedly a charismatic man—young, appearing no older than his early twenties, with black hair, black eyes, and fair skin. His features held a cold, profound depth, like ice carved from snow.
That face belonged to a noble-born heir, and in his military uniform, he looked every bit the dashing star of the stage. But gazing down closely, one could still detect a sharp edge in his brows and the corners of his eyes—a presence forged from decades of commanding armies, enforcing iron discipline, and making ruthless decisions.
His nose was straight, his lips thin and defined, giving off a silent sharpness when he kept them closed. Though shackled at the lowest point of the arena, when he tilted his head up to face forward, he seemed level with everyone—no sense of inferiority.
"What are you looking at?" Barnett asked, intrigued.
"...The uniform suits him."
"It'd suit him better off."
Osroed shot him a slightly surprised look. Barnett snorted through his nose. "He's a Beta. The hall checked back in the day... Imagine how much Yunes wants to kill him now, after being stepped on by a Beta."
The murmurs dragged on for a long while before dying down. The deep voice from the elders' dais spoke again:
"How do you propose to ally?"
"I want power," Celia declared clearly. "But too many in the Alliance Council stand ahead of me. I can't wait for them to die off one by one. The only place in the universe that can help me is right here. Once I gain power, you'll get what you want in turn."
The elder fell silent for a moment.
"—And what do we want?"
"A lot. Political influence in the Alliance, powerful military forces, abundant mineral resources, classified cutting-edge tech... Of course, you could refuse. You could expose my secret, even kill me outright. But you'll never find another partner like me."
The elders exchanged glances, while Celia remained unfazed, his voice steady and resolute:
"I'm one of a kind. If word gets out that the Alliance marshal hails from Dark Star Hall, it'll rock the Alliance to its core. The next marshal, to quell public outrage and avoid suspicion, will make crushing Dark Star Hall his top priority—then it won't be just me landing on the planet, but the full might of the Radiant Legion..."
The elders' dais went quiet.
The vast arena fell utterly silent. After a long pause, the deep voice said:
"Yunes."
Yunes, tall and broad in black armor with a pallid face, stepped forward.
"Yes."
"What do you think of Celia's words?"
Celia stared straight ahead, not turning his head an inch. A few seconds later, Yunes replied coldly:
"Pleasing to the ear, but not trustworthy."
"Oh? Then you think he should be killed?"
"Yes. He should be killed."
Silence draped the arena like a black veil. After a beat, the voice intoned:
"—Osroed."
Osroed stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"What do you think?" The voice from the dais was icy.
In recent years, a new force had risen among Dark Star Hall's youth, led by Osroed, Barnett, and others. With his ruthless cruelty and reckless daring, Osroed's status had soared, even faintly challenging Yunes—the veteran warrior who had dominated Dark Star Hall for a century.
So it was no surprise that the elder called on him.
"I think Marshal Celia makes a valid point," Osroed declared loudly. "Infiltrating outward isn't quick work. This approach would greatly accelerate our invasion of the Alliance."
His gaze clashed midair with Yunes's, sparks flying like flint on steel. Then both turned away.
Celia lowered his eyelids, face expressionless.
The elders debated for a while, seemingly at odds. At last, the dark gray shadow shifted again, intoning gravely:
"Dark Star Hall accepts your proposal, Marshal."
Celia looked up.
"But we don't trust traitors, Celia—you must first become a Dark Star warrior again."
Yunes's eyes snapped up. Osroed blinked in surprise. Whispers erupted everywhere. A few seconds later, Celia's voice came, devoid of emotion:
"—Very well."
Two arena warriors approached, unlocking the stone cage with a clang and escorting Celia to a stone chair directly beneath the elders' dais.
The chair loomed tall. Celia eyed it coldly for a moment, lost in thought. Then he unbuttoned his uniform jacket one by one, tossed it aside, and sat in his undershirt. Instantly, a click—shackles sprang from both armrests, locking his hands fast.
"You're no stranger to this, are you, Celia?" the voice said coldly.
The Alliance marshal made no reply.
The two warriors retreated, soon dragging back a black iron chest half the height of a man. They slammed it open before the chair. A foul black mist billowed out at once. Seconds later, a triangular snake head emerged from within—the chest held a massive serpent!
"Hiss..."
The giant snake slithered slowly from the chest, its body patterned in black laced with green, gleaming with lurid venom. With a thud, its body—thicker than a bowl—hit the ground. It coiled around Celia's calf, sliding up his white uniform pants, looping into a flat U-shape, its massive head looming over its prey.
Celia turned his head away in disgust.
But the serpent seemed suddenly enthralled by him. It looped around his waist once more, then burrowed under his shirt hem. Buttons popped as it emerged from the collar, its murky yellow eyes nearly brushing Celia's face.
This was unprecedented in past rituals—even the elders leaned forward with interest.
"Hiss... hiss..."
The snake flicked its tongue, studying him for a moment before inching toward his neck. Its thick body bound him tight. The red tongue probed around his throat for a good while before, sated at last, it bared its fangs and sank them viciously into his carotid!
"Ah...!"
Celia's muscles tensed instantly. He clenched his jaw so hard his face twisted. Beads of cold sweat dripped from his cheeks onto the snake's head. After about ten seconds, his body convulsed violently. Countless black patterns erupted beneath his skin!
The patterns spread like living things, radiating from his heart to his shoulders and the backs of his hands, then crawling up his neck to his cheeks like demonic vines, vanishing into his eyeballs. His pupils flared a bloody crimson.
"Ah... ah..."
Celia panted in agony, unable to hold it back. He gripped the armrests white-knuckled, thrashing futilely against the serpent's coils.
Osroed swallowed hard and looked away.
A full half-minute passed before the snake finished injecting its venom, releasing its fangs and resuming its U-shape. Celia was drenched in cold sweat. The warriors grabbed the serpent to drag it back, but it clung reluctantly; they had to yank hard several times to pry it free.
A murmur of unclear meaning rose around them, fading to quiet seconds later.
"Yunes," the voice from the dais commanded.
The shackles on the chair's armrests clicked open. Celia exhaled sharply, steadying himself before barely managing to stand.
Yunes took a tray from a warrior behind him—neatly stacked black armor atop it—and approached, offering it to Celia.
They were so close now that a mere dip of the head would brush lips. Yunes opened his mouth as if to speak, but Celia turned away without so much as a glance.
In that instant, Yunes's expression was indescribable. Celia snatched up his jacket and strode outward.
"Never mind... Now that he's a Dark Star warrior again, it hardly matters."
The voice boomed from the dais. All warriors bowed their heads. Seconds later, it continued:
"Then, Marshal Celia, Dark Star Hall is henceforth your steadfast ally."
"I'll keep my word," Celia said without turning back. "See that you do the same."
Jacket in hand, he walked steadily through the arena. As he passed the stands, Dark Star warriors parted like a sea, countless gazes upon him. One even surged forward impulsively, only to be held back by his neighbor.
Only one man didn't move.
He had cold gray eyes, pupils a demonic scarlet like a serpent's tongue, his gaze laced with a hunter's thrill.
Celia knew he was the young warrior who had opposed Yunes, but his eyes didn't linger. As he drew near, he heard a playful voice:
"—Alliance Marshal?"
"..."
"Pleased to meet you, Celia. My name is Osroed."
Celia didn't even shift his gaze, stepping right past. Osroed froze for a split second as they brushed shoulders. Then Celia tossed back coolly:
"What do I care?"
Osroed could scarcely believe his ears. He whipped around, catching only Celia's figure weaving through the crowd, vanishing swiftly into the night beyond the arena gates.
Author's Note:
Thinking about it, if this were a smut fic, having a guy like Celia get railed by the villain BOSS and his crew would be pretty hot—but alas, this is serious drama... it'd get flagged... and I'd be scared of the furious fans downvoting me to oblivion...
P.S. From the comments: Obviously the Marshal's faking his defection this chapter! Foreshadowing earlier with Yunes saying Celia tricked the Elder Council! No way the Marshal suddenly turns dumb like that—there's more to it~ Later he coordinates an inside job to wipe out Dark Star Hall completely~